


The Tower, Death & The Lovers

by 7cinnamonroses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Clairvoyance, Dark Magic, Evil Snoke, F/M, Human Sacrifice, Minor Character Death, Occult Society!AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partial Mind Control, Sexual Content, Tarot Cards, Telepathy, Victorian!AU, Warning: Snoke, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7cinnamonroses/pseuds/7cinnamonroses
Summary: London, 1881. With several people gone missing after attending soirées of the Occult Society, Lady Leia of Organa asks her brother Dr Luke Skywalker to use his unique telepathic abilities to investigate the matter. Accompanied by Leia’s husband, the brave General Solo and their ward Rey Kenobi, Luke sets out to uncover the secrets behind these upsetting and mysterious disappearances.





	1. Shuffle

**Author's Note:**

> Without wanting to scare anyone away, I would like to state that this story has become much darker than I had intended. I will be listing all the triggers for the whole story in this chapter and will also mention the triggers that might upset people at the beginning of every chapter. If you find anything in that list that isn't for you, turn away, friend. Should I ever forget a trigger (because I might not consider it one) feel free to tell me, I'll be glad to add it to the trigger/warning list. Last thing I wanna do is upset people who thought they were appropriately warned.
> 
> Possible Triggers/Warnings for the Whole Story: Character Deaths, Blood, Mention of Prostitution (in that era ‘Age of Consent’ was a very, very shaky concept for poorer girls while those of the upper classes were ‘protected’. I will not describe anything, because I don’t have the stomach to think anything like that through but prostitutes could be as young as 13 and it will be mentioned in passing), Human Sacrifices, Child Grooming, … in a word: Snoke!
> 
> Possible Triggers/Warnings for this Chapter: vague allusions to baby farming, mentions of human Sacrifices

While his shadow was long and did indeed cast a significant part of the floor and walls in darkness, he was not content with the effect he had on his bright surroundings. He was a tall man, his physique broad and athletic. The shadow coming from him was only natural, nothing special about it at all. Kylo Ren’s master was capable of basking a room in his dark presence by simply stepping into it, the very air around him heavy with sheer power.  
One day he would become just as capable of controlling his environment as Snoke was now and as his own Grandfather had been.  
As he stalked through the decadently decorated house of some rich fool who clung to infantile superstition in the face of his pitiful existence being deprived of true purpose, he couldn’t help but press his lips together in displeasure. Tonight’s task gave him no pleasure.  
Still a young man, he did not feel the effects of age as his master, which probably resulted in his own unwillingness to take an active part in these matters. He did not condemn the rites, what right did he have to do so? Their master needed the rites to continue to remain alive and he convinced them that they all would be lost without him and his wisdom. The necessity did not mean that he approved of the acts that would be committed tonight.  
He’d not play an active part! He was here in case something went wrong. The siren they had chosen tonight was a capable, seductive one who knew of her allure.

But where was she?

The house was packed with people, which made their endeavour so much easier. Secrecy was so much more achievable in crowds of significant numbers. What was it to anyone here if one of them was to vanish? They wouldn’t realise it until it would be much, much too late…

Stepping into a dimly lit drawing room on the ground floor, his gloved hand flew to his black mask made of porcelain, making sure it was in place. The rest of the finely garbed guests wore similar ones, most of them in the venetian style that was considered fashionable at the moment. Some of the men wore masks that only hid half of their faces, while most of the women’s countenances were hidden by masks that covered their whole face, obviously worried about their own or their husband’s reputation. Some of them accompanied men that were at least 20 years their senior and he did not need make use of his powers to determine that those were the respective mistresses of the men whose wives probably wasted away at home.

His disgust for them caused him to waver in the sympathy for tonight’s chosen sacrifice when he made out the Siren standing close to a man and a younger female, who was certainly not his daughter. No man would allow a daughter of his to attend a meeting of the Occult Society, let alone a séance.

He hovered close to the entrance for a minute, observing how the younger woman eagerly reached for the Siren’s hand and quickly made her way towards one of the couches, sliding off her white gloves.

Kylo smirked.  
So Miss Netal had decided to lure the woman? It wouldn’t have been the first time. As the Siren slowly, almost languidly slid off her own gloves to take possession of the other woman’s dainty little hand, a small audience gathered around them, most of them eager to see. Grinning behind his mask, Kylo joined them.

Bazine Netal, tonight’s handpicked Siren, had been a prostitute, a mistress and later added spy and assassin to her list of occupations. Every move she made was sensual, unhurried and with the sole purpose of seducing and captivating her audience. While her voice softly cooed predictions and flattering descriptions about the young ‘lady’s’ character, the tips of her naked fingers caressed the other woman’s palm, following it’s lines. One glance at her next victim’s face gave it all away. Her pupils were blown wide, her plum lips half open, cheeks touched by a lovely blush.

She had forgotten about her male companion, who followed the spectacle.  
Almost unwilling to do so –Kylo knew what he’d see– the younger man opened his mind to the emotions and energy that flowed from the man like thick waves. The sight aroused him, he hoped he could somehow manage to whisk both women away tonight… Kylo dug a bit deeper. Mr Benston –so the name of this wealthy gentleman– had rented a townhouse where his mistress lived, away from his wife and four children.

The younger man drew back, now lingering on the younger woman –Diana. She knew of the wife and cared little. She’d give the old man a child or two, then planned to blackmail him into procuring her own and her children’s futures… he’d be none the wiser if she got rid of her offspring by having them adopted to be nursed. He had money and children enough already! Tonight however, she really wanted to get rid of him and…

The dark clad man quickly drew out of her mind at her very unlady-like fantasies.

Neither of them deserved pity. The world would be a better place without them.  
In the corner of his eye, he perceived another young woman, the upper half of her face hidden by a pearl-grey mask. Her full lips were formed into a disdainful grin. For some reason, he could almost taste her scorn without even having to read her. She wore a dress made of light-rose and gold coloured silk, her brown hair tied back into three complicated knots.

Something about her…

He was just about to investigate when something in close proximity had the room’s energy flicker, the air around him becoming tight with a presence. He didn’t need more than a second to recognise it. Someone was here to steer up trouble and suddenly he knew why he had been chosen to accompany Netal, even though he had not been commanded to attend a selection up until now.

With a last glance towards the girl with the grey mask, he stalked out of the room. Luke Skywalker had just entered the house and the Siren and him could not be seen together in the same room.

 

* * *

 

The people who had been chosen as tonight’s fellow commuters with spirits that inhabited the unknown regions of the dead were seated at a round table, listening attentively to the medium’s calm yet imperious voice.

Their hands reached for those of their neighbours. The youngest of them, a lady with exotic dark curls and large green eyes, already was much agitated by the experience.  
Then began the spiritual guide’s chants.

The affair was a ridiculous one!

Among the enraptured audience that had gathered around the candle-lit table, stood a young woman, her gaze stony and unmoved by the exciting act that was evolving in front of her hazel eyes. Just before the main event of tonight’s soiree, another of the masked guests had been coerced into reading in the hands of some of the ladies after she had displayed a talent with Mr Benston’s latest mistress, two vile people she would rather have avoided. Yet, she had been pressured to have her hand read too, even her companion, protector and benefactor partaking in the little sport.

Rey found the idea of a stranger brushing her skin still agitating, but –thanks be to her teacher– tonight it did not have the feared consequence. She had shielded her mind against any vision or invasive sight of the other woman’s future while she was being told in a good-natured tone that her life would be happy yet full of trials.

That had been far more exciting than standing around a table, watching some self- proclaimed medium talk nonsensical gibberish.

After a few minutes the medium’s capabilities as an actress peaked in a crescendo of gasps, moans and inarticulate murmurs. The full-bosomed lady had finished the first act of her performance with a heaving breast her cleavage certainly of great interest for many of her male audience. With a fake, breathy voice she called out the name of an elderly man, whose expression had been equally as sceptic as the hazel-eyed young lady in the audience, who knew exactly what was going to happen next.

A soft chuckle reached her ears and she glanced to her side to see her instructor’s eyes twinkle with an expression of utter amusement.

“Do try to appear at least a bit enticed, Rey unless you want to be called forth my Madame Gaenesh next.”

She rolled her eyes.

“This is a farce.” She hissed a bit too loudly.

Madame Gaenesh’s voice broke off at that, her head flying back. Before her eyes rolled back into her head, they met Rey’s.

Her companion chuckled.

“It appears, you were found out… Oh my, your insolence vexed this good lady.” The matter seemed to be a source of great delight for the elderly gentleman with a grey beard peaking out beneath his mask. “What happens next?”

Rey closed her eyes and focused on the room’s energy.

“She will call me a wretched fool and rotting infidel and will demand that I leave the room, for she will be unable to uphold the fickle connection to the realm of the dead in case I was to remain, spoiling everyone’s enjoyment. Lord Wellsley will be very gentle in asking me to step into the smaller drawing room, while Mrs Thornton will be two seconds short of dragging me out by the hair herself.”

Before he could utter a reply, a voice, raspy and harsh, declared:

“Wretched fool! Rotting infidel!”

Madame Gaenesh heaved and gasped again, then sacked in her chair, as if overcome by a fainting fit. Immediately, those around her came to her aid. Rey could hear the fake weakness of the spiritual woman’s voice as it carried through the room the very words she had just foretold.

“Not the accomplishment of foretelling a murder, but it will have to do for now, won’t it?” the older man jested as voices rose around them, some angry (Mrs Thornton pushing her way towards them), others beseeching her in frantic but kind speeches to leave the room for now. Lord Wellsley kindly offered to escort her to the smaller drawing room and make sure she’d be provided with refreshments, which she declined.

“Doctor Skywalker! I shall take my leave for now.” she excused herself with a mocking curtsy. “Do enjoy such unique sights.”

“Do not stray too far, child.” His voice held a slight warning and she nodded and went to take her post, fierce eyes looking out for anything that might be unexpected.

This séance had been uneventful; boring.  
Boring was good, but not what she had seen in her vision. Five people of varying age and sex had vanished never to be seen or heard of again during meetings of the occult society over the last 6 months. And her gift had entrusted her with the knowledge of this being the place for the sixth abduction.

She was rather certain that it would be a female, for she had heard gasps, but sadly she had not been provided with more. Just blood and cold laughter that haunted her dreams.

Travelling down the hall, she withdrew into the smaller and much more plain drawing room that had been offered to her as a refuge. Taking off her mask –she had never been fond of occasions that hid people’s faces– she walked around the room, looking for something to make her look occupied with anything but keeping an eye open. Deciding on a leather-bound edition of The Pilgrim’s Progress, she sat down and opened it without bothering to read it. She had left the door half open, so she would be warned in case someone might try to slip past.

She had not been seated there for two minutes, when the door opened and a tall man clad in black stepped into the small room. His face was hidden by a black mask, but his bearing and the sheer energy upon entering had been possessed by a determined intensity that had sent goosebumbs up her arms. This energy was converted into one of surprise and helpless bewilderment that was rather comical in a man his size and –doubtless– strength.

She had startled him. Her unyielding eyes did not avert from the stranger as they probably ought to have. Her etiquette may have been improved to great advantage, but no education in the world could and would make her as coy as any of the soft and obedient women in the other room.

The stranger, tall and broad shouldered as he was, was too stunned to react at first and she wondered whether she shouldn’t be so kind as to give him a well-practised shy smile or a polite blush, when he straightened his shoulders and bowed with grace.

“Excuse my rudeness, Miss, it was not my wish to disturb your peace.”

In greeting, she bowed her head, but remained on the settee she had sunk on.

“It is I who has to beg your forgiveness and indulgence, Sir, for I do not think that expecting peace in a stranger’s house would be a wise thing.”

As he stepped closer, his presence almost made her uneasy. It was a meagre sort of worry that only lasted a second before she felt herself calm down as if that moment had never happened. Lots of people were in the next room. She need only call out for assistance and it would be there.

“Would you be terribly scandalized if I were to sit with you? I appear to be early to a meeting and do not wish to give further cause for discomfort by interrupting the spectacle.”

With that he nodded towards the door and Rey found herself smile, willing to indulge him, yet wondering why... She did not want him to leave for some reason and that really confused her.

_If he remains you can investigate. Find out why he’s so… so…_

“Sir, I feel obligated to inform you that you just propositioned to sit with an infidel outcast. Your reputation might be at a great risk here and I could not stand dragging you down with me.”

He cocked his head to the side.

“I believe myself brave enough to face the people’s scorn.”

Rey mimicked the tilt of his head.

“I don’t doubt it, Sir, but we are quite unequally matched, with you being in the advantage of still wearing your mask while I was foolish enough to take mine off – to make reading easier.”

She could do this! Two years ago she hadn’t been able to pronounce a single word in a way that did not cause her tutors to despair and now she sat in a fine room, conversing with a man of high birth –for he did not strike her as the son of a wealthy tradesman. Lady Leia would have scolded the character of her speech as too unladylike, but Rey had long ago made her peace with the fact that she would never be fit to pose as a prober lady.

“Allow me…” he said rather softly, and reached one of his hands up to slide the mask off of an unusual, yet handsome face. His lips were full and looked soft for a man, his dark eyes and black locks contrasting with the paleness of his skin. Traditionally, his angular face was not beautiful, yet she would strongly disagree with any person who would call him plain or everything short of good-looking. “We are equally matched now.”

Rey smiled, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers.

“Not quite, Sir.”

The stranger fought a smile, going on to pulling his gloves off, both the smile and the deed would be considered scandalous. She liked it. His teeth were a bit crooked, but white and his smile had a tragic nature to it. His features were put together in a way that made his valiant battle with something as little as a smile appear of great advantage. She wondered whether he had ever fought in a war and was certain that she would not like him as an opponent.

“Which crime did you commit to deserve this cruel exile?”

She gifted him with a wide smile and a short laugh before she told her tale.

 

* * *

 

 

He had roamed the house for a short time, now very much aware of another undesirable presence. Feeling like a trapped animal, he needed time to think, an opportunity to become invisible. Kylo had been quick to hide any and every trace of his own presence, but he could not be sure that his unc– Skywalker would not be able to catch him anyway. His psychic and mental abilities were a force to be reckoned with, notwithstanding the man’s ridiculously pacifistic ideals.

He needed… he paused.

The peculiar presence of the young lady was close, closer than the larger drawing room where Netal undoubtedly proceeded with her seduction. The presence was soft and bright, yet intense and unyielding, a fascinating combination in the midst of unsuspecting and vain sheep.

He found her in a smaller room, making the quick decision to remain with her for the time being. Upon finding her reluctant, something about him alarming her, he made quick work to calm her down.

His attempt to prompt a psychic exchange proved to be futile however, her mind being thoroughly guarded by mental walls, and penetrating them would have brought her pain, which he had no wish to do.

So he urged himself to be satisfied with her company and gaining knowledge of her secrets the old-fashioned way; conversation and diplomacy.

 

* * *

 

 

General Han Solo, husband of Lady Leia, Duchess of Organa had never been a man who could pride himself with patience. No sailor was fond of waiting, he had found. So, when his dearest brother-in-law stepped out into the garden on the backside of the house, he was glad of it. As if seeing him, Luke Skywalker strolled over to his hiding place. He probably felt him with that curious, uncanny gift of his. Solo was an uncommon sailor, for he lacked the superstitious mind shared by all of his comrades over the years. Having a wife, a brother-in-law, a ward and… Having a family who were all capable of truly peculiar deeds, had taken some time to get used to. Maybe it had taken too long, considering…

“Where is Rey?” he demanded without digress.

“Guarding the entrance. I dare say, Madame G. will not forgive her for her scepticism. She has quite the untamed tongue, that one.”

Han huffed.

“Can you blame her? You drag her to these gatherings of charlatans and silly antics and expect her to do what? Smile contently like one of those little fools hiding behind their prettily painted fans and masks that probably cost more than a man’s weekly wages?”

Luke’s smile was mild as his eyes drifted away from Han, vacant for once.

“If she were my daughter, I’d be proud to have called her mine, make no mistake. But…”

A rustling disturbed the men.

“Chewie…” Han made his way over towards the noise’s source, followed by Luke. “Why aren’t you…?”

The answer came as a bark in a thick Scottish accent and both Han and Sykwalker blanched.

 

* * *

 

 

The séance was over, evidenced by the pieces of conversation getting carried into the room where Rey was supposed to have a lookout for everyone who might want to leave the house. She’d have to concentrate now, which meant that getting her companion to leave her alone was essential.

“I am afraid I kept you too long, Sir and I have to face my benefactor’s anger for being too witty.”

He stepped forward, offering his hand, giving her reason to pause. Before the séance she had consented to having her hand read and she had left her glove behind in the other room. It would be impolite not to accept his assistance, she knew, so she accepted his hand, placing her naked hand in his awaiting palm. Her guards were up. What could possibly go wrong?

His skin was warm, though rougher than she had thought. How tiny her fingers looked in the large palm…

_A moan echoed through her mind. Two bodies, writhing on black sheets. A lithe female form, gasping, groaning in completion. The Siren’s laugh and then a cold, male laugh._

_Blood. So much blood._

_The stranger’s eyes watching._

_A dead male body._

_Pain. Searing, endless pain and a never ending void of despair._

_Her name coming in a whisper before frantic lips devour her, strong arms holding her close, dragging her away._

_Rey…_

“Rey!”


	2. Arrange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, a quick thanks for the kind comments and the kudos and the subscriptions! They made me so so happy and motivated me immensely. :)  
> Slight sexual content (girl on girl) in this chapter, also  
> Triggers and Warnings: Murder, Torture, Humiliation, mention of Prostitution & underage Prostitution (just a brief mention)

Chapter 2

 

 

Her hand had been a fragile thing, he remembered in an attempt to take his mind off of the occurrence beyond the wall of the dark hallway. Her palm had not been as pale as others he had seen. He had found her skin to be soft, her grip however firm, confident. A lovely combination, he had decided and still could not find it in himself to retract his first impression of her touch. Kylo Ren had barely had time to register the pleasant warmth of her tiny hand in his, when he had felt something inside of him give way, opening himself up to her without his control. Her energy had intertwined with his as her own broke away from her like a wildcat that broke from its leash. The memory almost made him shiver. It had been an experience beyond words, her mind having revealed enlightening facts about her.

In his mind he had seen a girl. Dirty, underfed, desperate and tired, so achingly tired. Always fleeing from roaming hands.

Her visions had been the next thing that had raged through his head. Horrible sights that had made her cry. A yearning to step forward and protect that he wasn’t familiar with had taken a hold of him and his hand had found the small of her back to cradle her small form against him.

In his mind, he had made out objects floating through the air next, her elevation, warm praises congratulating the girl –Rey– and the clapping of hands. Her gaze in that memory had shifted and had he not torn himself away from the images of her former life, he might have been too late to catch the young woman with the gift of clairvoyance before she collapsed.

He closed his eyes in the present, making an effort to recall her warmth that he had felt even through his clothes, the delicate weight of her lithe body not unpleasant in his grip. She was one of the gifted, which of course explained why her presence had felt so unique.  
He was inevitably torn out of his memories by Armitage Hux who shifted next to him in the dark and for but a moment he focused on the process that the man observed with rapture. Warm blood was streaming down his face still, but he had paid it as little attention as the scene they were to watch from behind a portrait with holes that allowed them to be the audience of tonight’s rite.  
The male had been drugged and half sat, half laid on an armchair by the door. He would be kept for another time, Kylo supposed, but couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t important enough to set free after tonight. On the bed, the two women’s writhing bodies glistened in the dim light of two candles. Rapturous sighs and little giggles filled the silence. He made an effort to shield his senses from the room’s and the secret passage’s atmosphere. Next to him, Hux’ gaze was trained on the two women’s bodies, his visage unmoved, his cold eyes unblinking. This man was a keen and enthusiastic observer of this part of the ceremony, but his anticipation for what was to follow exceeded his enjoyment of being the voyeur of debauched sexual acts.  
It disgusted Kylo.

The knight took no pleasure in the Siren’s performance. While her body was aesthetically pleasing, he was too aware about it being but another part of her large arsenal of weapons. As beautiful as Miss Netal may have been to the eye, she was little more than a walking talking and enticing dagger in his master’s grasp. He for one had never felt any sensual inclinations towards lethal things. The other woman didn’t stir any longing in him either. She would soon meet her untimely end, so her curvy figure and her sizable bosom meant nothing to him, even as the Siren’s full lips closed over the other woman’s dark nipples.  
Hux was more affected he could tell, even without using his gifts. The pale man with slicked back ginger hair released a hiss of air through his nose, shifting again.  
The ginger miscreant was probably hard as a rod, Kylo thought with some fresh wave of revulsion.  
One of those women was as good as dead, whereas the other would kill anyone and everyone in their sleep, if ordered to do so. Hux going mad with lust a few inches away from him, made him wish to be excluded from this questionable ‘honour’. Once more, to take his mind away from the prolonged spectacle he did not enjoy, he recalled the night’s earlier events.  
Rey… she was his uncle’s new student. This girl would have her remarkable capabilities wasted for the comforts of a roof over her heard and basic human decency from her fellow creatures.  
Wrong! This was all wrong!  
Her energy wouldn’t correlate with that of his uncle. Not with his spirit being forced into placidity that bordered on languid self-abandonment. No! Rey’s was a vibrant, somehow peckish and vehement nature and it would leave him inconsolable to see such a bright, tumultuous force of nature dimmed because his uncle was too afraid to allow it to thrive. He couldn’t bring her here, but…

The Sacrifice moaned and writhed on top of the sheets, the Siren’s head between her shapely white legs. Her upper body arched, her voice lost in a string of sighs and gasps that became louder as the wet sounds that mixed with them became more intense.  
For a moment he closed his eyes, recalled the moment when intelligent hazel eyes had tried to focus on him, struggling with the sudden rush of energy having weakened her, lips moving slowly as if to say something.  
“Rey…” he had breathed –sounding more gentle than he had in years– since it had not been his wish to startle and alarm her.

Then a man had cried out her name and out of a sudden she had stirred. No. Struggled. The girl had gasped, pushing her warm, frantic hands against his chest in an attempt to get away from him.

“You!” she had spat that word as if it held a lethal poison that was meant to strike him down, her pretty eyes alight with that fierce spirit he had perceived. He had attempted to hold her, to somehow keep her. For a moment of pure madness he had hoped beyond hope to take her away with him before Skywalker and Solo could make their way towards them.

But where would he have taken her? Here?

The hidden knife that she had procured had made thinking about it redundant.  
The Sacrifice had not noticed the door opening. The woman was too lost in the throes of passion as she moaned the Siren’s praises.

Behind the wall, both Kylo and Hux straightened.  
Lord Snoke had arrived to the feast that the Siren had brought for him.

The man looked ancient and like a shadow he ascended upon the two women, soaring towards the bed like an all-consuming shadow.

_Keep going, my dearest._

They all must have heard his command, for Hux gave a nervous twitch while the Siren actually moaned against the other woman’s sex, doubling her efforts to pleasure the Sacrifice.

A few moments later, the corpselike body of their master leaned over the bed, his black robe pooling over the other woman as Bazine’s tongue and fingers brought her to a blissful peak.

Snoke’s pale lips closed over the Sacrifice’s mouth. The woman’s eyes flew open, but it was far, far too late. Her body went rigid as the old man began to hollow out his cheeks and began to suck…

The memory of the sudden blade that Rey had pulled from her corset slashing open his face was all that kept Kylo from fleeing the scene as his master sucked the life force out of the young woman until she was little more than a dried out, wrinkled body that would cease to function within minutes. She would be tossed into the river or onto the street later. Just another old hag, seemingly succumbing to old age. For this was how she looked now. Hollow cheeks, sunken in eyes and white hair, where a few minutes ago youth had resided. His master would live for another month and he thoroughly deserved the throbbing pain in his face.  
The young knight knew it couldn’t be helped. They needed Snoke. They were nothing without him.

Snoke rose from the bed and with a gesture of his hand, the woman’s body rolled off of the sheets. A stony gaze met his.

“Kylo Ren, we have much to discuss.” the booming voice, revived and powerful left no room for argument.

“Certainly, Supreme Leader.” he answered, banning any and every thought of his uncle’s protégé from his mind.

“Capital…” with that, Snoke turned towards the Siren who knelt before him on the bed, her lips still glistering with the dead woman’s juices. “I see you brought an extra. See to it that he remains alive. With Skywalker’s return, we might not be able to fetch the next one so easily.”

“Yes, Master.” the Siren purred, leaning into the pale hand’s touch that had reached out to pet her.

A dark chuckle.

“The General was rather inspired by your performance… Entertain him before you come to me to gather your own reward, would you, my dear?”

It wasn’t a question really. The woman had no choice but to follow Snoke’s suggestion or her reward would change into a punishment within the blink of an eye.

Without warning, the painting that had hidden Kylo and Hux swung back. While Hux went towards the bed, Kylo made his way out of there as quickly as possible. Snoke followed, while chuckling.

They walked through the house’s dark corridors. This was Snoke’s element, his body always appearing to become larger as his surroundings became darker.

“So, Skywalker decided to become active again.” Snoke mused, almost sounding amused as he side-eyed Kylo’s wound. “I am certain the Duchess had a hand in it.”

Those words had Kylo flinch. He would much rather not have his mother involved in the whole matter. As soon as he realised this, he quickly distracted himself by focussing on the pain caused by the wound.  
“He will not succeed in detaining us from our ultimate goal, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke chuckled.

“Of course not.”

The two men reached the old man’s study. The room’s temperature was colder than the rest of the house and every shred of light is sucked out of it as soon as they stepped into it. While he would never admit to it, Kylo hated to be in here to linger before his master’s desk, standing there like a naughty school-boy who was receiving a scolding or a lecture by a school master.

“The Order will proceed as planned. Have the knights attend to their respective duties and make sure the members of the First Order do not lose their focus. The festivities will take place in a few months and we still have to place a few individuals in the midst of the higher circles. Tomorrow I will personally see to it that everyone is aware of exactly how many of their dirty little secrets we are aware of.”

“Supreme Leader, is that wise?” he heard himself wonder and his heart stopped. Snoke was not the kind of master who took well to being doubted. Indeed, the old man’s eyes turned into angry, cold slits.

“Why, Sir Ren, how quaint to have a boy who was too preoccupied with Skywalker’s appearance to anticipate a knife attack doubt my counsel.” His voice promised pain, so Kylo was quick to fall to one knee.

“I would never, Supreme Leader, I just–”

“Enough!” the other man dismissed. “If you wish to take part in our operation, you will trust my judgement or I shall have you replaced.”

The young knight remained silent. He knew that nothing he’d say would appease Snoke once he was displeased. His best option was to bear any and every punishment and pain that would doubtlessly accompany it. So there he knelt, waiting. The sound of Snoke’s laugh echoed through the room.

“Rise, boy! Tonight you will converse with the spirits again, seeking their wisdom if mine is no longer sufficient to quench your thirst for knowledge.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but no sound would leave his throat, nor could he move.

“I told you to rise, Kylo Ren.” Snoke’s growl held a note of amusement.

He had to fight the physical grasp and attempted to shake the control that bound him. However, when he tensed his muscles to will them into submission to his own instead of another’s will, his nerve-endings burnt. His veins felt like they were filled with shards of glass, the sharp edges slicing them open. Had he been capable of doing so, he would have screamed as soaring pain flowed through his body.

“Come on, boy. Rise!” Snoke taunted. “Or are you too weak?”

His muscles gave way and his chest began to heave with silent gasps for air. Tears were mingling with the blood on his face, burning in the fresh wound. Soon the twitching would start…

“You are, are you not?” came the taunting voice that now sounded crestfallen at his apprentice’s lack of control. “You won’t sully yourself like the first few times, will you?”

Shame.  
Kylo vividly remembered the first time he had been punished, even though that dreadful moment dated back to 7 years ago. He had been so clueless to the real powers that a single being could wield by the sheer force of their will. He had cowered on the cold floor in his own urine, drooling and sobbing by the time Snoke had decided that his misstep was appropriately prosecuted.

Not again!

Never again!

He had been weak then. A weak little boy who had clung to the desperate hope to some day belong somewhere. He was a different person now. His uncle’s teaching had kept him in a false sense of safety. What had Skywalker, that old coward known? He would never stand down, not like his uncle who held onto the ridiculous belief that they shouldn’t interfere.

Anger throbbed in his heart, dulling the pain.

Skywalker would let people starve next to him without lifting a finger to help. The face of young Rey, dirty, hungry and cold was brought before him and he suddenly found himself on his feet. His eyes unseeing, unblinking and settled on the memories his mind procured. The mother that had abandoned him with Skywalker had been the one to save the girl, he was certain. Skywalker would never… he would… he would have abandoned him, too and Kylo knew it.

“I am yours to command, Supreme Leader!” he hissed and felt the grasp of Snoke’s control falter before it vanished.  
“Indeed you shall. Now, to the girl…” Snoke purred and Kylo’s fists balled into fists.

No…

 

15 miles north, young Rey Kenobi woke from a dream, screaming.

 

* * *

 

1 week later

 

“Doctor Skywalker?!” Quick, determined steps caused the wooden floor to creak, the planes near the door moaning from too many years of use. He knew that he really ought to heed his sister’s sound advice on having some refurbishments. At least for the rooms they inhabited on a daily basis. An unwilling smile forced itself onto him, as he turned in his chair close to the fire to face the young woman hurrying towards him, letter clutched in her hand.

“My dear Miss Rey, I recall my sister instructing you in the art of only entering a room after knocking.” he scolded gently, while his eyes gave away his amusement.

Unaffected by his chastisement, she proceeded her march towards him, her voice firmly, but pleasantly informing him; “Can’t knock what’s not in yer… your way.”

Ah, she was right of course. The door had been open. He was too used to living alone still, his peace only disturbed by a servant’s step and his mind being haunted by accusations spoken a long time ago.

A sigh tried to force itself from his chest, but he restrained it. The change Rey brought to his house bothered him less with every day that passed. His sister Leia, Duchess of Organa, had sent her young ward to his house so she might learn to control her exceptional gifts as well as assist him in solving the mystery surrounding the disappearances in the circles of the occult society. Being a young eligible woman, she was here in the guise of visiting London for the season to find a suitable husband. Given the circumstances, he ought to consider himself lucky that he was not forced to attend more parties. His sister had seen to it that more outgoing and fashionable friends of hers stepped in to accompany Rey on her official outings so they would not awake suspicions.  
A week ago they had almost succeeded in getting to the root of the abductions –for this was what they were.

“I am certain you didn’t breach etiquette only to deliver a letter?” he wondered, eyeing the folded and sealed piece of paper in her hand.

Her hesitance was short lived, but in a person such as young Rey Kenobi who could barely contain herself when some emotion agitated her, it spoke volumes. She leaned forward to place the letter on the old but polished round table in front of him. As her fingers were sliding it towards him, it suddenly soared forward, straight into his outstretched hand.

“Something is wrong with it…” Rey told him, not a trace of uncertainty in her voice.

A sigh left him this time.

_If I had 10 pence for every time I’ve heard that…_

He caught Rey’s frown and perceived her studying the room’s energy and his mood at the same time.

 _Didn’t I tell you not to do that?_ He mused, knowing she couldn’t hear him, but his weariness certainly had filtered through. She was such a quick learner, a natural empath. Just like– No. No, that would lead him nowhere that wasn’t agonizing.

To dissolve thoughts of his nephew, he opened the letter with steady fingers.

Rey waited patiently, her intense gaze never leaving the old man. Her hands clutched at the skirt of her light day dress.  
Luke deflated. To state that something was wrong proved to be as great an understatement as could be imagined.

“This letter is supposed to be from my old friend Professor San Tekka…”, his voice managed to sound both hollow and furious.  

His eyes did cloud over and for a moment he was too far gone to pay her shocked expression, the widening of those intelligent hazel eyes any mind.

Lor San Tekka had not possessed the gift, but he had believed in it. Years of research had made him as good a source for the wisdom of druids and those touched by the almighty spirits as one could wish for. His mind had been one of the precious few to stand in awe, where others only feared and destroyed. It had been this man who had helped Luke Skywalker, a naïve boy, to learn the stories behind powers that had scared him. Lor had been his most trusted friend and confidante. A true philanthropist, establishing a shelter for young children, had also been Lor’s idea. Luke had always shied away from interfering. Not because he didn’t care! Seeing all the sufferings of the world every day pained him deeply, but he had been taught by Rey’s grandfather that interference could have unforeseen consequences, he always held back. Once, when he had been a boy of 18, he had tried to save a girl from a dreadful life as a courtesan. He had been so adamant about it, her large eyes still haunting him after all those years. People had died. And she had been too afraid of him to move, ending up to be shipped off to some far corner of the world. Because he had fought, people had died. For nothing! No good had come out of it… Interference was dangerous and could cause more damage than good. The risk was too great to take. But when he met Lor San Tekka, he had faltered in his strict reluctance. A school… A safe haven where children could learn to control what had appeared to be uncontrollable. Far away from judgement and persecution. What could be wrong about it? They’d be safe to prosper. They’d be a large family. It had been a lovely dream they had dreamt together.

And now he held a letter that should not exist in his hand.  
Lor San Tekka had been dead for six months now.

Anger suffocated every beat of his heart, his ears suddenly filled with a ringing sound and he felt something lurk. His eyes flew around the room, but find no presence, the letter suddenly as heavy as lead in his hand.

_Who…_

Glass began to vibrate around him, but he paid it no mind. They were hiding behind the ink, weren’t they? The absurdity of the thought shocked some long burried part of him.

_Who dares…_

His fingers clawed at the paper, yearning to tear it apart, but doing no damage whatsoever.

_Suddenly his mind was back at the fateful a week ago. Han, himself and Chewie, the largest and bravest Scotsman he had ever had the honour of being acquainted with, burst into the room to find Rey half collapsed. Held by the man that had had taken pride in being his nephew once. Worry and confusion had been written all over the boy’s face before these emotions morphed into those of hot anger and hatred for the three men. The thought of appraising and warm eyes that had stared up at him in adoration as he taught the little boy how to telepathically lift tiny objects pained him more than he cared –dared– to admit. He missed that boy so much…_

Everything had happened so fast after they had entered that room in Belgravia.

A muffled, angry voice could be heard among the ringing inside his ears and as his fingers made another attempt at the offensive piece of paper, he heard a deep, cold laugh. From somewhere he heard a howl that could only belong to an animal.

If only he could destroy that letter…

But that taunting laugh became louder and louder.

_If only…_

His nails began to tear at his own skin and...

BOOM

He was brought back into the present by the door banging closed. He found himself on his feet, his breast heaving and several shards of broken glass floating through the air.

Rey did not speak, but her eyes gave away the storm that raged inside of her as she met his gaze. Her arms were lifted, hands and fingers stretched. One was extended towards the door that she had just closed while the other one protected them by holding off the sharp pieces of glass, glittering in the light of a fair day.

It was a rather pretty sight.

“What is it, Doctor?”

He didn’t want to meet her unflinching gaze. Didn’t want to dwell on what made her so hardened against outbursts as violent as this and suddenly he felt very, very ashamed.

“An invitation…”

 

* * *

 

There was nothing extraordinary about the house’s facade.  
Quite consistent with the general idea of belgravian aesthetics, the four storeyed building was the identical twin of the houses to its left and right. All of them would have been white, had they not been drenched by darkness, only the flicker of the gas street-lights giving away their true colour.  
Here, the streets were paved and well lit, the city’s foul stench a tasteless rumour that was only whispered about behind colourful feathered fans. Even the moon seemed to shine just a little bit brighter this side of town.

Rey Kenobi didn’t belong here and her surroundings too, appeared to share her conviction. Her dress made of silk made her skin tingle, the shoes on her feet were too noisy, causing every step to echo through the almost empty street. She never came to like heeled shoes and now that she struggled to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. Tonight her corset was just a bit tighter, making her already slim waist look even more petite. God, how she hated those things.

She had no taste for fainting fits and couldn’t be sure about the night’s outcome. Not when dead people sent invitations…

Of course she felt bad for what had taken place in the house and her thoughts were with the drug-induced sleeper back at the house. It had been hard to keep her thoughts secret when she had handed Doctor Skywalker, already wearing a suit and struggling with his cuff links, a glass of brandy. But… how could she have let him go? Acting had been her only way to save his life. Her vision had been clear and she remembered it well…

 

_After Doctor Skywalker had repaired the windows and wine-glasses and vases with a mere gesture of his hand, he had fallen back into his chair, thrusting the letter away from him like it was some poisoned snake._

_“Some foul mischief is at work here, Rey. Do not let it touch your skin.”_

_Ever of practical character, Rey had balled up some of the fabric of her skirt and held it so that she could form an impromptu glove from it. She was certain Leia would never allow her to hear the end of it if she were to ever do this in public. With this rather amusing thought, she had turned her attention towards the letter between her fingers and folds of soft fabric._

_It had been indeed signed as “Your ever faithful and devoted friend Lor San Tekka”. The Occultist Society was apparently holding a very special gathering at one General Hux’s house in town. Rey had heard that name before and reading it sent a cold shiver through her body. She knew that the young man was considered a military genius and one of the youngest officers to reach such an esteemed rank that the British navy had ever seen. That much she knew of the social gatherings she attended to assess London’s upper class. She knew more of Hux however. She had seen him in that horrible dream of her, unflinching in the face of a young woman’s life being sucked out of her by the darkest spirit..._

_By then she had known that this spirit had a name._

_Snoke._

_Lord Snoke had been touched by the same powers that resided inside of Doctor Skywalker’s and her own bodies, but used it in the most perverse manner possible. The tale that Luke told, had painted a clear, disgusting and unnatural picture and –while she was not easily spooked– her heart had grown cold at his retellings._

_Luke had banned all and every impure form of outlet from his teachings. Early on, he had informed Rey that if she were ever to use her powers against unsuspecting creatures he would cast her out and would make sure that Leia too would not welcome her back in her house._

_Lord Snoke seemed less delicate. The retellings of the horrors and numerous crimes of that man had the young woman draw into herself, her dream still a too fresh memory._

_She had been brought back from her musing by a heavy hand that had been placed on her shoulder probably with the intention to comfort her in her distress. Instead it increased it tenfold. Breath was knocked out of her and her eyes became unseeing._

_Cold and damp hands clutched at Luke’s, her face frantic._

_“If you go, you’ll die!”_

_A cold laugh had invaded her ears and…_

_Stop it!,_ Rey snapped at herself. She had a mission and would fulfil it. She’d find out what could be done and she’d rid them all off this hateful creature.

Lady Leia and her brother had both been incredibly kind to her ever since she had been found by another ward of Leia’s, Finn. Up until then she had been struggling to stay alive and out of the dreaded workhouse by doing odd jobs that paid poorly, but didn’t force her to open her legs for paying customers. The thought had been alluring, though. One brothel-mother and especially her husband Unkar, had really had an interest in her and for the briefest of heartbeats she had considered it.

Her virtue had not been the reason she had refused to sell herself. Food and shelter held a higher worth to her than this vague concept of purity which had never protected, never warmed and never fed her. No, it was far less virtuous than that; Rey hated to be touched and only once –she had been 14– had she been desperate enough to make an attempt to sell herself. The stranger had given her a pitying glance before telling her that she was a bit young for his taste. She had not even had enough pride left to throw the warm coin he had pressed into her palm back into his face.

She had been too glad having avoided being touched. The things she had seen when someone had brushed her in the workhouse or when an over-seer had slapped her… The over-seer’s throat being cut open so he drowned in his own blood, only to have it happen a few weeks later had shocked her, but she never told anyone. She had known what they’d do to her and if the workhouse was bad, a lunatic asylum was hell. So she had kept her mouth shut, crying herself to sleep more than once after seeing the same girl she had helped to her feet after falling down. She had seen that same girl end up a prostitute who was addicted to the devil’s drink. Rey had loathed touching others. Now she could control it, shield her mind. Thanks to Dr Skywalker!

Before she had met Luke and his kind sister, Rey had not known of clairvoyance or what others called the second-sight. It had been Leia who had explained it to her in that calm, warm tone of hers.

They had saved her. They had fed her and taught her to control her gift. She could and would not allow that beast to harm the only family she had ever known. They had even given her the name of her family back. She would avenge their suffering.

Stepping towards the door, it opened and a smartly dressed butler greeted her, accepting her invitation without a word.

As the door closed behind her, Rey suddenly felt dreadfully cold.

_Forgive me, Master Luke…_

 

* * *

 

The women were finely dressed, their voices soft and barely a murmur, while they flocked around the men they accompanied. All of them gathered in the generously sized drawing room of Hux’ townhouse. A few were beginning to cast curious glances his way, some turning back towards their acquaintances to inquire: Was he the one?

The dark clad man opened his senses to the energy that roamed through the rooms of this building and was immediately assaulted by a variety of thoughts, notions and sentiments. All were intrigued, some felt lust for one person or the other, hoping for an opportunity to act out their untoward desires, others waited in anticipation for the promised séance. Some of the men were sceptics, but that was why they were here. They’d learn…

Just as he felt one’s anxiety and fear being replaced by rapture and –as he knew short lived– enjoyment of the act that was happening two storeys above the unsuspecting guests, he closed his mind again. He knew it was inevitable. The greatest and most powerful man in all existence would not forfeit life like a normal man and neither should he. Yet…

He drowns the pity for the girl with a glass of 50 year old brandy.

As much as he hated these gatherings, it was a welcome excuse not to join the ritual. Lord Snoke had been weaker than usual, which had taken Kylo Ren by surprise. His master had been in perfect health since the last rite and it ought to have sufficed for a few weeks longer. Tonight however, he had collapsed, gasping for air, his energy whipping angrily through the room.

Hux –ever being the good host– had procured a random prostitute who would not be missed. Disgusting weasel faced…  
The very man stepped into the room, giving the impression of being rather pleased with himself. As soon as his eyes fell on Ren, he sauntered over.

“He will be feeling a lot better soon enough.” Hux informed him cockily.

“Excellent.” Kylo nodded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a person who was shown into the room by a manservant. Both were making their way over to them and he took another sip before turning away. Surely this would be another of Hux’ admirers. The concept of him having women fall over each other to gain his attention continued to perplex.

“Miss Rey Dameron, sir. She is in attendance instead of Doctor Luke Skywalker.” Kylo heard the servant introduce her and he almost dropped his glass before finding back his composure and turning towards the young creature that was currently dropping in an elegant curtsy in front of Hux, apologizing for her attendance. Her eyes held the same spirited, determined expression he remembered, while her full lips were formed into a beautiful yet guarded smile. Her hazel gaze met his and his heart stopped. There was no fear, no surprise and indeed she seemed to be daring him to give her away.

“Miss Dameron,” Hux greeted in a drawled and bored tone, “Think nothing of it and enjoy the séance. May I present Kylo Ren?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love.  
> See you guys next time :)


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